


magical stalker witch saves the day, again

by jedormis (cettevieestbien)



Series: The Stilinski-Hale Pack [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Cora Hale, Alpha Derek, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - No Season Three, De-Aged Pack, Dead Hales, Dead Peter Hale, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Erica is a Daddy's girl, Gen, Good Magic, Kidfic, Kind of..., Lydia is a Good Friend, Magic, Mates, No Spoilers, Non-binary character, They/Them, literally everyone ships Sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:47:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4529544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cettevieestbien/pseuds/jedormis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erica slams into his legs about five steps into the hallway.</p><p>She sees him, and immediately puts her arms up, saying carry me with her body language.</p><p>OR, the pack (and Allison) get de-aged, Derek cannot cook, Lydia ships that, Boyd cries, Scott is walking sunshine, Jackson uses boobs for pillows, Stiles somehow knows how to father, Cora is happy, Erica and Isaac like snuggles, and Allison is still the oldest. And some weird witch person thinks Derek is Sad and Lonely, and decides to fix that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	magical stalker witch saves the day, again

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiiiii! This is my second Teen Wolf fic, so any concrit about characterization would be helpful.
> 
> This is set in a world where Alpha Packs don't exist, Peter Hale died somehow, Cora Hale lived somehow, Erica and Boyd and Jackson and Allison and Lydia are happy and sane (and alive), and Derek is a good alpha despite being in his early twenties.
> 
> This is canon up until season two, without the alpha pack, obviously.
> 
> Enjoy!

One day, a foreign presence makes it’s way onto Hale property, and stays. Derek lets it slide for a few days, because the presence isn't evil or bad-intentioned or even intrusive, just mildly annoying, so he figures it’s fine to leave them be. But then, the presence -- a witch -- seeks him out. The witch doesn't seem to have a gender at first sight, looking old and withered and as skinny as a pole, but they do have an overwhelming smell of herbs, chemicals and grass. Derek is in control of himself enough to not scrunch up his nose at the offending scent.

For a while, the witch does nothing, not bothering them, and staying away from them all, but watching Derek go through his day. The betas are mostly ignored, but they dislike a possible enemy watching their Alpha so closely.

Lydia, Allison and Stiles, as the humans of the pack, have their opinions set in high regard, almost as high as Derek’s, but they can’t agree on whether or not to kill the witch or just run them out of town or just leaving them alone and waiting to see what happens.

The whole time the pack argues about it, the witch simply sits around outside his loft, both in the building and out of it.

His betas keep away from them, stay close to Derek or each other when they encounter the hanger on. The witch doesn't seem to notice, they were too busy reading books in Latin and looking through baggies.

 _The witch isn't doing any harm_ , Derek reasons with himself one night, trying to find a plan of action, _but if they stay to the weekend, I’ll get them to leave_.

The weekly Pack Night happens before the weekend does, though, and the pack gets forced to move around the witch when they greet him at the door. Pack Night is when all of his betas and the humans converge at one place of residence and bond. Movies are watched, games are played, and smiles are on everyone’s faces. Dinner is eaten there, and then the sleepover part happens.

Everyone goes to bed in their pajamas on the floor in the living room, and wake up to tongue baths from the earliest rising betas. Derek gets to join in on it, sometimes, and he enjoys it more than he probably should.

The witch sitting outside his door distracts him from having the most fun possible, and he doesn't like it. It’s that night that they decide to say something.

It’s after all of the betas have finally fallen asleep, the humans, too, curled around each other and touching head to toe. Their knock is timid, but Derek could still sense the power in the figure behind the door.

The door opens without a creak, and Derek forces his way out of the door instead of letting the witch in. He doesn't speak, just raises an eyebrow and motions for his companion to say their piece.

They smile placidly. “Derek Hale, the almost last living Hale, right?” They don’t wait for any kind of confirmation before continuing. “You’re lonely.”

It isn't a question.

Derek’s hackles raise. Ignoring the previous sentence, he says back, “what your business is here? What do you want?”

“I want to make you not sad, child.” The witch seems proud of themselves for saying it, then sobers. “I know, now, what will make you happy. A family, a mate, a pack.”

Derek steps back, hitting the door. He doesn't like this. He doesn't want another family, he doesn't want his mate yet, and he already has a pack -- a pack full of teenagers and emotions and drama.

“I had an idea, you see,” they continue. “I would make the last Alpha Hale happy because, knowing what he’s lost, he must be miserable. I saw you, then, living here with only two members of your pack, and I saw you react to each one when they came through your door tonight. I know what I’ll do to help you now.”

Derek doesn't say anything, feeling the heavy fog of magic starting to form.

“I’m going to give you a family, and your mate!” The witch says, sounding excited and clapping their hands together a few times. “And it won’t hurt anyone, either! Plus, some of your betas will be much better off with you than their real parents.”

Derek has a few seconds to wonder what that means before the magic fog turns into a cloud and he’s waking up in his bed to the sound of a wailing baby.

* * *

Erica slams into his legs about five steps into the hallway.

He _thinks_ the little girl is Erica, anyway, because her hair is blonde and her eyes are brown. Neither of the other three girls have those features, and he only knows so many blondes who live in or frequent his loft, so who else could it be?

She’s crying, but it’s not the sobbing that woke him up. It’s quiet, small cries that seem to stop for long moments at a time.

She sees him, and immediately puts her arms up, saying _carry me_ with her body language.

He gingerly lifts her by her armpits, shifting her over to sit on his hip once she’s securely in his hold. She wraps her legs around his waist, but they don’t meet. She doesn't seem to mind, though, because her nose goes into the crook of his neck, scenting him.

Her scent is different, smelling less like teen-aged werewolf with good control and crazily shifting emotions and more like a toddler werewolf whose control isn't great, and playfulness. The others smell the same, except for the betas and, oddly, Allison. He also can't smell the witch anymore, but he ignores that part of the scents around his loft.

He doesn't say anything to her, just lets her scent him and feel the warmth from his bare chest, like all alphas do with the younger wolves. He remembers his mother doing this for him, when he was (more than likely) younger than Erica is in that moment. He thinks she might be three or four years old.

He walks slowly to the living room, carefully holding the little girl in his arms. He’s strong, but he isn't always very steady, and the last thing he wants is to drop her.

When he gets there, he sees that all but Lydia, Stiles and Derek himself are children. Allison is -- and he’s guessing, here -- the oldest at eight (?), while Boyd is the youngest at one (?). Stiles is awake, sleepily peering down at Scott, Cora and Isaac, who are pulling at his shirt’s hem, but Lydia is fast asleep. Jackson is curled up on her stomach, not quite sleeping over Boyd’s screeching and the others’ loud whines and whimpers.

Allison is still sleeping, too, lying near the couch where Lydia and Jackson are.

Stiles locks eyes with Derek, and says, "please tell me you have some experience with children."

"Very limited amounts," he answers. Erica furrows deeper into his neck, and he tightens his hold accordingly. Stiles smells like confusion after his response, a sharp scent, and so he explains, “my younger cousins, and my younger siblings. I was only four when…” _when Jared was born_ , he doesn't say.

Stiles seems to get it, anyway, and asks, “do you know how this happened?”

“The witch who sat outside the door did this, I think. They said something about giving me a family, and a pack.” _And a mate_ , he thinks.

Stiles ponders that for a moment, then turns to the boys standing at his legs. He scoops Isaac up, and grabs Scott’s hand. “Alright, puppies, are you hungry?”

Isaac nods, Cora grins, and Scott says, “very, very hungry!”

Stiles grins, and turns to Erica and Derek. “What about you two? Are you hungry?”

“I think it’s more important that one of us deals with Boyd first,” Derek says instead of answering. He gives Stiles a significant look, and gently pries Isaac out of Stiles’ arms; the baby copies Erica and snuggles into Derek’s chest. “You can do that, and I’ll take these three to get some breakfast. And one of us should call Deaton and Chris.”

“I don’t waaaaannnnnaaaa,” Stiles complains under his breath, helping Derek get a better grip on the two toddlers in his arms.

Scott and Cora waddle over to him, Scott clutching his pajama pants’ hem in one hand on his left, Cora taking a handful of the right leg. He smiles down at them, already knowing his scent and status is comforting to them but that they might want him to be approachable, too. He thinks his smile might be more of a wince, but Scott beams at him like the ray of sunshine he is, and Cora grins back. Stiles watches for a second, the rolls his eyes and goes for the screaming baby.

“I didn't agree to this,” the human mutters as he lifts Boyd from the floor. He’d been standing up, sobbing loudly with real tears falling, but once Stiles picks him up, his cries taper slightly. “Somebody’s hungry, huh?” Stiles gushes at him with a baby voice.

Derek grins and follows Scott and Cora into the kitchen.

He asks Scott, “okay, what do you want, Pup?” The nickname, which was what his parents called him and his siblings, comes out easier than it probably should be. His throat doesn't close, his eyes don’t sting, but Scott shoots him an almost knowing, kind of confused look.

He and Jackson will have the most control over their senses and instincts, Derek knows. Cora will be acceptable, and Erica will be better than Isaac at it, but Boyd will have almost none. Luckily, at Boyd’s and Isaac’s ages, they can’t fully shift into their beta forms and barely have fangs or claws -- the most they can really do is flash their eyes.

Isaac just snuggles deeper at the question, but Erica says, muffled, “I wan’ pancakes.”

Cora looks excited, and tugs at his pants, while Scott nods so hard Derek thinks he might get whiplash.

“Yeah, Der! I want pancakes, too!” His voice is much higher than usual, and he calls Derek _Der._ Another nickname he already knew.

Derek ignores that, though, pushes Laura and Peter to the back of his mind, and sets Erica down next to the older betas. He shushes her crying, sets Isaac down next to her, and goes looking through the cabinets.

The box is pushed to the very back of the middle shelf in the third one he looks through. He’s not sure why he has it, since he and the betas aren't the best cooks, and Lydia refuses to do chores around the loft. Stiles and Allison are the only two who can cook worth a damn, and, okay, Isaac’s cookies are ridiculously good for someone with barely any baking talent, but the point is, Derek is not good at preparing food.

Derek’s staring at the box when Stiles comes in, cradling Boyd to his chest and being followed by Allison, Jackson and Lydia, all of whom are yawning widely.

He stares at the scene around him, his old crush and two de-aged friends standing behind him, his new crush looking at a box of pancake mix with a scared look, and four children, all his de-aged friends, standing around and staring at the baby in his arms, another of his de-aged friends, or his new crush.

It's kind of insane, and he wants to think about how domestic this is, but he gets pulled out of his thoughts.

“Daddy,” Erica complains loudly, and both Stiles and Derek snap to look at her. She has her arms up again, and Isaac copies her, saying what was probably supposed to be _daddy_ and is instead _dat-eeeee_. With an added screech on the _e_ of course, because what self respecting two year old doesn't screech as loud as his one year old rival?

Derek looks at Stiles pleadingly, and Stiles sighs. He grabs Isaac’s tiny little hand in his and starts pulling him/persuading him.

“Why don’t we go to the table?” He asks the kids as he pushes them towards the dining room. “It’ll be more fun in there, you know. We'll get to sit and talk about whatever we want.”

That gets to the kids, and they start to follow him. Jackson, Allison and Scott walk themselves just fine through the door, but the younger kids look like they’re going to cause a stampede and trip over each other.

Lydia actually willing picks Erica up, and grabs Cora’s hand. Stiles shoots her a _thank you, godsend Lydia Martin_ look, and pushes the door open.

He’s expecting the usual table with the mismatched chairs, but now, there are only six or seven of the chairs, and the rest are highchairs. He thinks about the surprised look on Derek’s face when he first saw the living room, Erica curled into his shoulder adorably, held up in just one of his arms and not even on a hip.

Basically, there’s no way anyone could have bought this stuff without knowing about the kids, and god, Lydia had almost screamed when she saw Jackson’s little head on one of her breasts, using it like a pillow. So it hadn't been Derek, Lydia or Stiles that bought this stuff.

He decides to think about it later, and carefully deposits Boyd into the nearest high chair, then grabs Isaac and puts him in the one right next to Boyd.

Erica goes in the last highchair, and Cora gets to sit in the seat with the booster. Scott and Allison sit next to each other on the other side, with Jackson next to Allison, and then a free seat next to him.

Lydia sits down in the chair at the head of the table in between Cora and Scott. She catches Stiles’ eyes, and waves a hand. “I've got this. You just go help Alpha make breakfast.”

Stiles lingers, asks, “alright, you cool with pancakes?”

She nods, and waves him out. And then yells after him, “I’m not changing any diapers!”

There’s a crash, a loud, “oh, God! Spare me!” and a rarely heard chuckle that follows her statement. Lydia grins, and starts conspiring with the older three on how to get the two idiots in the kitchen together.

 

 

 

 

Find me **[here](http://idiots--putain.tumblr.com) ** to share ideas or give longer/unrelated prompts!

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any prompts for this universe, send them in! I have lots of plans, and would love to incorporate them with what you guys want.


End file.
